


Not A Monsters or Twisted

by RougueShadowWolf



Series: 15 Minutes [170]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Blood Drinking, Blood and Gore, Halloween, Sheriff Stilinski is a Good Parent, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, kid stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-20
Updated: 2016-11-20
Packaged: 2018-09-01 03:28:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8605495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RougueShadowWolf/pseuds/RougueShadowWolf
Summary: Some would call his son a monster, an abomination, but to John Stiles was precious, much loved and worth to bloody his hands for.





	

**Author's Note:**

> But anyways… So my friends who shall be called Pink-Paperclip in this round of misery asked for the theme to be Halloween or at least a little mention of it, she also wanted there to be a touch of monster in here, she wanted this fic to be focused on the Sheriff being a good dad… and so this is what happened since she gave me nothing to work with.

 

John Stilinski unlocked the door and slipped inside the small house he now occupied with only his son, this was still his shelter from a world that continued to grow more unstable no matter how hard he worked to try and keep it in balance. 

His son, his beautiful little boy came bouncing down the stairs still wearing his Halloween costume. The dark mask of Batman seemed to enhance the unnatural paleness of Stiles skin; then again almost every color known to man seemed to enhance the almost ethereal paleness. 

`Happy Halloween son.´ John greets his son who waits for him to lock away his gun and badge before bouncing over to him and throwing his arms around John. The hug is a careful one since Stiles knows that even when starved he could really hurt his father if he wasn’t careful, and John had to admit he’d been very lucky that he didn’t lose his wife before she could teach their son how to control his unnatural strength. 

`Happy Halloween daddy.´ Stiles says, and John can’t help smirk a little at the daddy part, Stiles calls him dad most of the time except when he’s hungry to the point he’ll throw away all pretenses of being too old to be treated like the little boy he still was.

John hugs his son back. He holds his son as close as possible before planting a kiss at the top of the clever little head of his young son. 

Some would call his son a monster, but to John he was just his little boy and his son. His son wasn’t a monster, and what Stiles was wasn’t something Stiles had chosen to be, he’d simply been born. 

`Hungry son?´ Stiles nods, a whine rising from deep within his tiny body where against most beliefs a heart did still beat. 

There really was no need for him to ask such a silly question, after all the signs were there that his son was positively starving, his eyes were no longer as bright and he looked and felt already skinnier than what he’d been days ago. 

`Alright, you go and get changed and remember to wash your hands.´ John tells his son before planting yet another small kiss on top of the little head of his only child, a wide smile appears on the adorable little face. 

`And I mean it Stiles, wash your hands.´ John tells his son a little bit too sharply, but after the whole food poisoning thing a few years back when Stiles hadn’t washed his hands well-enough after touching something that had the power to make him ill John couldn’t help it; the memory of his son crying, body unnaturally warm and other dreadful things still haunted John. 

John simply couldn’t lose his son too, not after losing Claudia, and so perhaps he was hyper vigilant when it came to Stiles health these days. It was better to be overprotective than fool-hearted when it came to the safety and well-being of his son.

John plants another kiss on top of the still covered head before breaking his hold of his little boy, a child born as any child but who carried more of Claudia’s bloodline than his own. 

Stiles beams up at him before hurrying upstairs, his movements are slow, uncoordinated showing just how starved his son was by now, John did try and keep this from happening but at times there were slight slip-ups or late feedings like today. Still, Claudia had encouraged allowing Stiles to feel weakness now and again just to remind him how humans were, but it didn’t lessen the guilt clawing at John’s heart as he hears Stiles stumble. 

`I’m okay!´ Stiles shouts down to him, and of course he is fine since a little bump like a trip or a fall couldn’t hurt Stiles like it would do humans, only if he was truly starved could he feel pain from a stumble and a fall. 

John waits until Stiles is out of sight before checking that the doors are locked, just in case and all that.

He waits to hear Stiles disappear into his bedroom before stripping out of his work clothes right there by the stairs, removing watches and even the ring his wife had slipped on his finger years ago when they were still young and full of hope, there’s a system to everything he does. Because of his son, because of what John has to do for his little boy he’s clean shaven all over, and his hair is neatly trimmed and he’s quick to cover his head with a shower cap before getting dressed in the overalls that he’ll burn once the deed is done. Carefully John gets ready doing his best to minimalize the risk of leaving any evidence of his person on Stiles dinner. John knows he looks like one of those guys on the news dealing with disasters like Ebola or some dreadful crime scene. 

John is all suited-up when he makes his way into the kitchen.

He grabs the familiar knife he uses only when Stiles needs to be fed, and the cattle prod soon follows, John takes the time to test the cattle prod a few times. John hasn’t ever had to use it the cattle prod but one could never be too cautious when the life of your child was at stake. 

John holds his weapons in one hand and starts to unlock the basement door with the other. The basement door was much more secure than any other door in their small home, carefully John slips through the door and locks it behind him before turning of the alarm off before setting it on again; if Stiles dinner somehow does manage to escape, and if it somehow managed to overpower him, Stiles will know it the moment the alarm rings, and Stiles knows exactly what to do if that happens. 

Of course John doesn’t want Stiles to ever have to deal with an escapee, but he’s not foolish enough to think it could never happen and so even before Claudia’s death they’d practiced what Stiles would do if the unthinkable did happen. 

John hopes every day that one day his son would find someone as devoted to him as John had been to Claudia. 

John moves carefully down the stairs into the basement, he can hear the whimpers and cries of the boy he’d snatched a week ago just a few towns over. The boy, called Arthur was like so many of the ones he’s picked-up and brought home before, a runaway. Now and again John would bring home a homeless man or woman, but they were always a little bit harder to handle and most of them were unclean. There had been the rare baby or two, even a small toddler that had been abandoned and which a better man than John would’ve processed as the law dictated, but John had to feed his son and wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth even when it came to little kids. 

As the light flickers on, the kid starts to cry, he begins to cry that much harder as he sees the knife John is holding which is a reasonable reaction considering he’d seen John take a life five days ago. 

Stiles was still a growing boy and needed at least two feedings a week, of course if Stiles had been a greedy little boy the feedings could’ve been more often, as Stiles grew older feeding on animals would help reduce the body account to only one or two a month; Claudia survived with one human victim a month that was of course until she started expecting, when she was pregnant John was constantly on the hunt for her food which was why they moved a lot during that time period. 

John walks over to the table by the wall near the stairs. The small lab stood exactly where Claudia had set it up years ago, while Claudia had the ability to smell if anything wasn’t right with a person John couldn’t, and his wife had thankfully the foresight to prepare him for the future where she wouldn’t be around to help him care for their son, not that either one of them had imagined such a day would ever come to play.

John tended to triple teste the bloods he would serve his son just to make sure his son wouldn’t get sick or hurt. Of course once Stiles was older, more capable of smelling deceases and any abnormalities this equipment would be packed away, but for now the little lab would remain. 

John glances over at Arthur who was still where John had left him early this morning. John places his equipment on the small table near the boy, the plastic sheets crinkling under his feet, for the second time that day he takes Arthurs temperature, when satisfied the kid didn’t have a fever John set to work.

He places the large basin down on the covered floor near the feet of the boy who was now screaming and crying with the desperation of one not ready to die. John grabs his knife and with a steady mind John begins to provide for his son. 

Arthur starts screaming from behind his gag as the chain that had kept him standing drops and the ones around his ankles tightens and yanks him off of his feet. The kid would’ve hit the floor like a sack of potatoes if John hadn’t been there to catch him and maneuver him onto his knees, John moves with ease and familiarity, he doesn’t play around as there’s no need to prolong the moment after all he takes no pleasure in this. He works efficiently, muscle memory and skill working together, and before Arthur can even realize that his head is forced back the knife cuts across his throat, not even a great big cut for the mess would be far too great but a cut neat and deep enough to allow a good flow of blood to escape his still young body. 

John bends the kid over the slightly battered basin, blood flowing into it while John holds the now struggling kid, there’s nothing quick about this sort of a death but it gets the job done. 

Once the blood stops flowing John drops the kid onto his back and unchains him, he cuts into the body once more taking out the heart and other organs such as the kidneys which he knows his son will enjoy eating, the resto of the body will be dealt with once his son is curled-up in bed. 

He drops the organs in the basin of freshly drained blood before moving over to the small section of the basement where the old washer and dryer stood, there’s a large sink there too. John carefully starts to bottle the blood before proceeding to cut the organs, he cuts everything into what Stiles likes to call tasty bits. 

None of what John does for his son is something he’d ever imagined he’d do, after all he’d gone into law enforcement to protect people, not to kill them and feed them to his wife and son. 

It’s a messy job, and he’s sweating like a pig by the time he’s done getting Stiles dinner ready. He strips out of the clothes he’s wearing, and gets rid of them with a sense of being on auto-pilot before changing into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

John grabs the little plate of meaty bits and one of the bottles of blood, the rest of the blood is placed inside the small fridge located beneath the stairs; he’ll make some special pancakes for Stiles in the morning by using the left-over blood, after all been neglecting his son for the several days due to his work.

John finds his son waiting in his PJ’s on the couch like the good little boy he was, body positively vibrating with excitement while John made his way over to him. John sits down next to him knowing very well that Stiles would want to crawl-up into his lap and drink the blood while cuddling close to him, and frankly John doesn’t mind it the slightest. John doesn’t mind the slightest cuddling his son after everything he’d done for his little boy. 

**Author's Note:**

> I seriously doubt anyone is reading this but I still feel the need to write this since incase someone is and doesn’t yet know the idea of 15minutes… but to those who are reading know this, this fic is written with the time span of 15min, hence the whole series being called 15 Minutes and not 20 or 30 Minutes. I have 15min to write a fic my friends (a term I’m starting to question dearly) demand of me. These fics are payments for various little things. Due to the time I’ve been granted there is no time to check whether or not these fics even make sense, and there are about trillions of mistakes in regards to spelling so if that’s a thing that drives you nuts LEAVE for you will find a lot of mistakes here. 
> 
> Now the second word of warning is that don’t expect great things here since I’m still feeling way-way down in the dumps after the death of a loved one. Not sure why my friends think this will help get me back to writing but well they’ve been waiting for a long time for this, and I’ve yet to even start on their Christmas presents… damn it. 
> 
> So in my head Stiles is like 8 years old, and up to a certain age he will continue to grow and whatnot like a human but like his mother he has super-human strength and a diet of blood, sure later on in life he can start to eat other stuff too but only blood can truly sustain him. And yes he is alive, he breathes, has a heartbeat, and will bleed if you cut him and he even bruises if he really gets hurt, and a bullet through the head and heart will stop him as it will most things, but he also grows weaker the longer he is without feeding on blood. 
> 
> Now in my head Claudia died she was in the wrong place at the wrong time, there were no hunters just a guy with a gun trying to rob gas station she stopped at.


End file.
